


Here's Looking at You, Kid

by orphan_account



Series: What We Do In The Semidarkness [4]
Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Familiar Mallory, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Vampire Michael, Vehicle Theft, Vomiting, What We Do In The Shadows AU, driving without a license
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 14:44:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20341837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mallory needs saving. Michael and Gallant come to the rescue.





	Here's Looking at You, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> The plot and characters of American Horror Story: Apocalypse belong to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

“Mallory,” Michael says, heartbreakingly sincere. “Desist this boorish behaviour. Mallory. _Mallory_. Please stop trying to eat my hair.”

“Mmmhpf,” Mallory mumbles into the blond locks she’s mouthing like a deranged goat. “You taste like strawberries.” 

Michael pats her on the back gently. “Gallant can this eyesore not go any faster?”

As if in answer to his question, Gallant slows the metallic eggplant coloured minivan to a crawl as he takes a sharp left turn. They’d appropriated the vehicle from a couple down the street when Mallory called, seemingly in distress, forty minutes ago. 

“Get off my tailcoat, Michael. If it was speed you wanted, you should have let Madison drive! You know how I feel about going fast!”

“Yes, yes. We all remember your unfortunate accident with the ceiling fan the last time you were a bat. But if we could make it home while I still have some hair left!” Michael snaps. 

“You…” Mallory’s forehead wrinkles with the intensity of her concentration. Tequila lax brown eyes narrow on Michael’s face. “You…are an ass.” 

Michael grins helplessly at her pinched expression. “Yes, Mouse. I’m the worst.”

She's sprawled across his lap with her head on his shoulder. His arms hold her tight against his chest. A seatbelt had been out of the question. It was hard enough to peel her off of the van’s floor and wrestle her into a seated position. 

She’d found several ‘cheer-e-os’ during her time face down in the carpet and was determined there were more.

“Yur face is so stupid. I hate it,” Mallory slurs, making grabby hands for his cheeks. Michael just manages to dodge the finger that goes for his right eye. “Why couldn’t I like Chad? He was sooooo nice.”

Michael frowns in remembered distaste. “That was months ago. Is that why you were out this evening trying to pickle yourself? That _fuck boy _isn’t worth your time.” Long fingers fix the neckline of her blouse. “You’ve gone and ruined your lovely bouquet. You smell like a souse who’s taken to lying with swine.”

Mallory takes a breath and then starts laughing so hard that no sound comes out. Michael’s concerned. Is this a sign of medical distress? Humans are so fragile.

“Fuck boy,” Mallory snorts. “You can’t—” she breaks off into more wheezing.

“What? Is that not the correct usage? Madison assured me Urban Dictionary was ‘legit.'"

His air quotes have her fighting for more air. “Stop. I’ll pee. I can’t—”

“_You will do no such thing! _Mallory. Don’t you dare. These pants are Dior. I command you to hold your urine.”

Mallory squints at him and chuckles like a madman, “you have no power here!”

She's deranged. Completely unhinged. “Gallant! Are we nearly there?” Michael yells toward the front seat. “Step on it man, she’s possessed!”

The other vampire ignores him, humming louder to the radio. He’s hunched over the steering wheel darting looks between the speedometer and the deserted street in front of them.

When they come to a halt at a stop sign, Mallory hiccups and cuddles close to Michael. He doesn’t shiver at the feel of her breaths against his neck. Absolutely not. 

“Youuuu think I smell purrrdy,” Mallory trills, nuzzling him just below his ear.

Michael feels himself stir with desire. “Careful, Mouse. I won’t be held accountable for my actions if you keep that up.”

Slowly, Mallory pulls back to make eye contact. Tension hums in her gaze.

She leans in toward Michael as Gallant steps on the accelerator, jerking the vehicle forward.

Pink lips never meet Michael’s own.

The abrupt motion of the van has Mallory losing her tenuous hold on the mix of alcohol and stale cereal in her gut.

She gags once and vomits all down the front of Michael’s velvet jacket.

“GALLANT!”


End file.
